Whatever Tomorrow Brings
by kerianne
Summary: A fic about Schwarz's past, based loosely around the drama tracks. A young Brad Crawford arrives at Rosenkreuz, thus embarking on the adventure of a lifetime... Yes, that was a really cheesy summary. Read the fic. (shounen-ai, adult themes)
1. One

Author: Kerianne _  
_Email: [][1]mpike@froggernet.com _  
_Title: Whatever Tomorrow Brings _  
_Spoilers: A bit of spoilage for the drama tracks, I suppose.Warnings: Shounen-ai, possible yaoi later on... violence... probably angst..._  
_Warnings: Shounen-ai (possibility of yaoi later), language, violence._  
_Author's Notes: This is my attempt at improving upon the storyline of the Schwarz drama tracks, which were, in my opinion, horrendous. If you haven't read them, look around a little and I'm sure you'll find them, but it's not necessary to have read them to understand the story. This is going to be AU, because I had to make the Schwarz members a bit closer in age so the story would make sense. Also, this is both the prologue and Chapter 1 lumped together, because it's just easier that way. *glares at chaptering for not providing a prologue option* Hope you enjoy the fic, and please leave a review! ^_^

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there  
With open arms and open eyes, yeah  
Whatever tomorrow brings I'll be there  
I'll be there _- "Drive", Incubus_  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

**Prologue:**

"Wake up, boy."

The harsh voice startled Bradley Crawford out of a peaceful slumber, and he sat up abruptly, chocolate brown eyes wide in the darkness. It took him a moment to realize the voice was familiar.

"Get up and get dressed." A hand reached out and violently tugged the covers away from the dark-haired teenager's body. Brad blinked, frowning and trying to make sense out of the situation. He couldn't see a thing without his glasses....

"Didn't you hear me, boy? I said get up!" The man's voice deepened to a low growl-- a tone that Brad recognized well. Quickly, he scrambled out of bed and rifled through his drawers, pulling out the first outfit he found. There was a knot of cold fear in his stomach, although he didn't know why.

"What's going on?" he managed to ask, pulling a blue polo shirt over his head and fumbling for his glasses on the nightstand.

"You're leaving." There was unrestrained glee in the man's voice. He had stopped pretending to care about Brad a long time ago. "I finally found a place that will take in a freak like you. There's no reason to have you hanging around my house anymore, eating my food, spending my money, getting in the way."

The knot in Brad's stomach intensified. It had finally happened. He had always known in the back of his mind that his father would desert him the first chance he got, but he had always managed to make himself believe that it wouldn't happen until he was older, until he had a chance to get away and make a life for himself on his own. And now? He would rot away for the rest of his life in a mental institution. Cold anger flared within him, and he clenched his fists instinctively.

"Let's go." A rough hand on his arm, pulling him out of the room he'd called home for all of the sixteen years of his life. 

"What about my stuff?"

His father laughed derisively. "You don't own anything, boy. Everything you had, you had out of the kindness of my heart. Who bought those clothes for you? Who gave you everything you ever had? I've supported you all your life because you've been too worthless to work." He gave Brad's arm a hard jerk. "I'm taking it all back now. Why should I give you your things when I could sell them instead? Don't worry, I'm sure they'll take good care of you in the place you'll be staying. They'll give you clothes." He gave another sarcastic laugh.

Brad had a sudden flash of himself padding around through antibacterial-white hallways, dressed in a hospital robe and those soft paper slippers they gave to crazy people so they couldn't hurt themselves with anything more substantial. Cursing softly, he prayed that it wasn't a vision of his true future.

"It's time to leave. Don't make me tell you again, boy." The words were laced with malice, and Brad flinched involuntarily. He never really got used to his father's cruelty, no matter how many times it showed itself.

This time, the dark-haired teenager allowed himself to be pulled along and out the door. He felt numb, dreamlike, and the fact that it was four in the morning and he'd just been dragged out of a perfectly good dream to be sent off to God only knew where wasn't helping the surreality of the situation.

The car trip was silent, as Brad's father drove smirking all the while about his good fortune in getting rid of his burden, and Brad watched the minutes tick by on the little green display on the dashboard. Watching the last minutes of the only way of life he'd ever known slipping away.

* * * * *

The view out the window of the plan was not a very interesting one, but it was different enough to hold Brad's attention. He'd never been on a plane before, and watching the vaporous clouds and vaguely white blobs of land floating past and underneath the aircraft was as good a way as any to pass the time, he supposed.

"Hello."

The voice startled him, making him turn around and really look at his seatmate for the first time. A petite girl with short black hair cut in a bob was leaning back in the seat, eyes closed. A moment later, her eyelids rose leisurely, revealing large, dark grey eyes. 

Brad nodded politely at the girl.

"So, what are you in for?" she murmured. Her voice was soft and slight, like the rest of her. She had a strange air of fragility about her, but intelligence shone in her eyes.

He frowned slightly, unsure of how much this mysterious girl knew. "My father sent me."

One dark, sculptured eyebrow rose. "Pretty cold."

"I'm used to it." Brad paused, debating whether or not revealing his life story to this total stranger was a good idea. _What can it hurt?_ he finally thought. _I've left that life behind now. Besides, talking will pass the time._ "He never loved me, from the moment I was born. I think, in a strange sort of way, he blamed me for taking my mother's affections away from him. Then, when she died..." He shrugged. "He kept me around for a few years, but I always knew he'd get rid of me the first chance he found. I guess this was it."

The girl's brow furrowed slightly, but the expression in her eyes didn't change. "That's rough. By the way, I'm Dana."

"Brad Crawford." He smiled faintly. "What about you-- what are _you_ doing here?"

Dana smiled wryly. "For as long as I can remember, I've lived in an orphanage. I have no idea who my parents were or where I came from. I was never too popular around there, and it was even worse when they found out I was a telekinetic." Her smile turned suddenly bitter. "They pretty much sold me to Rosenkreuz. So.... here I am."

Brad nodded. "It was the same way when my father found out about my clairvoyance.... He was never smart enough to figure out exactly what it was, but he knew I was different-- more powerful than him-- and he hated it."

"The head of the orphanage knew all about paranormal powers... she was one of those nuts who wants to rid the world of abnormal freaks' like us. I hid it for a long time, but in secret I still used my powers... I guess that was a mistake, because I got caught by my roommate. Word spread around the place, and next thing I knew I was being bundled onto the plane on my way to the mysterious Rosenkreuz." Her tone was tinged with sarcasm on the last few words.

"Rosenkreuz...." Brad said softly, not sure if he liked the feel of the word on his tongue. "Is that where we're going?"

"He didn't tell you anything, did he?"

The dark-haired boy shook his head. 

"Yeah, Rosenkreuz is the place. I guess it's in the Bavarian Alps somewhere. What it is, I'm not sure. I've heard it's a school... but then, I've also heard it's a mental institution."

Brad felt something twist within him, and the image of spending his life in paper slippers padding through antiseptic hallways flashed into his mind again.

"I guess we'll see, won't we?" Dana gave a small half-smile that didn't quite reach the dark gray eyes. 

"Yeah," Brad agreed quietly, returning his attention once again to the window of the plane and the land blurring faster and faster away beneath him... taking him farther and farther from home. "I guess we'll see."

* * * * *

**Chapter 1:**

_~Go home.... Turn back, before it's too late.... The future is still yours to change. Get away! Go home, turn back...~_

Brad's eyes flew open abruptly. For a moment he was frozen in fear, as the voices of his dream dwindled into silence. Then he took a deep breath and looked around. Still on the plane... they were landing now.

Dana glanced at him, frowning slightly. "You all right? You look a little shaken up...."

Brad managed a faint smile, standing up from the cramped seat and stretching his legs. "Just fine. I guess I'm just a little nervous."

"Understandable, considering we're about to get our first glance of the place we'll be calling home for quite a while."

The dark-haired boy felt a slight chill as the voices of his dream came to mind once again. _~Go home, turn back...~_

He shook it off. It was just a dream, after all. It hadn't felt like a true vision, so he had nothing to worry about. He probably _was_ just nervous....

The next half an hour passed in a blur of confusion and collecting luggage and seas of unfamiliar faces as all of the Rosenkreuz newcomers disembarked. The place had its own landing strip, Brad realized. He had expected to land at an airport and be transported to the institution from there. For the first time, he began to wonder if maybe this _wouldn't _be so bad-- at least they had to be pretty rich.

The next thing he knew, he was being crowded into a group of twenty or so new arrivals and led towards one of the large white buildings that seemed to compose Rosenkreuz. Dana was not among the group. Brad turned around and caught a glimpse of a dark bob-cut head of hair moving in the opposite direction, in a different group. _Wonderful,_ he thought, thrusting his hands sullenly into the pockets of his baggy khakis and trudging along with the rest of the group. He was tired, the flight had left him somewhat dizzy, he really wanted to take a nice long shower, and he was completely alone. Not a single even vaguely familiar face in sight.

"I hope we're being shown to our rooms now," he announced in an irritated tone. He was tired of being herded around like so many cattle. These people didn't even have the decency to tell them where they were going, or anything about the place.

The woman leading the group turned around, turning her piercing blue eyes onto Brad. Her graying dark hair was pulled back into a severe bun at the nape of her neck, and her features were pinched. She reminded Brad somewhat of an old, nasty schoolmistress. "I apologize for any inconvience it may cause you," she snapped, in a tone that was about as far from apologetic as one could get, "but all new arrivals must first meet in the general auditorium to hear a speech by the headmaster."

Rolling his eyes, Brad fell silent.

_~Real friendly around here so far, ain't they?~_ The thought popped into his head unbidden. He was confused for a moment before realizing that he was among paranormals now, and there were bound to be some telepaths in the crowd.

_~A top-class greeting, it really is,~_ he thought sarcastically. _~"Welcome to Rosenkreuz."~_

A hearty laugh burst into his mind. Brad rubbed his head a little. He wasn't used to communicating telepathically, and it felt a bit like mental fireworks exploding in his head. _~Eh, don't worry too much. You seem like a tough kid, I'm sure you'll stick it out.~_

_~Thanks.~_

Abruptly the mental connection was gone. Brad frowned a little. He hadn't even gotten the guy's name-- the thought-voice had sounded male, but he couldn't tell who was speaking. Nevertheless, it made him feel a little better. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen to all of them. Maybe he _wasn't_ as alone as he had thought at first.

* * * * *

"Welcome to Rosenkreuz."

Brad had uttered those same words less than twenty minutes before, sarcastically. This greeting was not quite as ironically stated, but it still far from welcoming.

Every eye in the auditorium was fixed on the man standing on the stage. Not a particularly tall man, or one with very striking features. In fact, his very strangeness lay in the fact that _nothing_ stood out on his face or body. He was the very definition of the word _pale_-- gray hair, almost white, sprinkled finely atop his head; a washed out complexion; and the palest gray eyes Brad had ever seen. Even in his spot, far from the front of the aud, he could see that there was no life in those eyes. 

"My name is Mr. Farblos, and I am the founder, director and head chairperson of Rosenkreuz. Simply put... I'm in charge." He gave a colorless smile, then continued in his monotone voice. "I'm sure many of you are wondering why you've been brought here... or exactly what here' is. I'm sure you're also tired, so I will try not to keep you too long. However, there are a few things about this place that I think it would serve you well to know.

"First of all.... Rosenkreuz is an institution." A small alarmed murmur swept through the crowd, and Brad found that his stomach was twisting up in knots again. The unpleasant image of himself locked up in a hospital for the rest of his life returned yet again to his mind, and yet again he forced it down and forced himself to continue listening.

"As you know, the word institution' can have two meanings. An institution can be a place of learning. A place where you are shaped, molded, shown down the right paths, taught to use your skills and powers to your best advantage." Farblos paused for a moment. "'Institution' can also represent a place of detention... of punishment. A place where people are kept apart from the world so they do not cause damage to themselves or others. Ladies and gentlemen, Rosenkreuz is both of those things, and it is neither. More importantly, what it _is_ depends on what you do. The decisions you choose to make. Make good decisions, and the first definition will hold true. You will hone your powers, master them, perfect them, and learn how to use them in the outside world." He took another pause, then began speaking in a more ominous tone. "Make bad decisions.... and you will understand firsthand the meaning of the second definition."

Brad felt a slight chill running down his spine. The room was silent now, as everyone processed this new information. He was relieved, in a way; at least Rosenkreuz _did_ seem to be at least some kind of school, rather than a mental home. However, he wasn't at all sure that he liked that last line of Farblos' speech....

Abruptly he realized that the man was speaking again. ".... rooms will be locked at 10pm every night. All lights will be out by 11pm. After that time, if any student is found to be out of his or her room, he or she will be taken to the offices and evaluated." The last word was delivered in a slightly lower tone than the rest, making it sound dark and forbidding. Brad shivered despite himself.

"The other rules can be found posted in each student's room. You will learn them quickly, and you will abide by them, because I trust that you will find the repercussions of breaking them.... rather inconvenient." Farblos smiled coldly. "You may go now. Speak to the head of your group for your room assignments. Many of you will find that you have been assigned roommates. Learn to get along with each other-- there will be no room switching."

With that, the man left the stage. No "goodbye", no "have a good night", no "glad to have you with us". Brad shook his head slightly and went off in search of the pinched-face lady to get his room assignment. Lovely place, this was.

* * * * *

"A real shame."

The girl's eyes fluttered open at these words. It took her a moment to awaken fully, but when she did she began to thrash, struggling against the bonds that held her, a wild look in her eyes.

"A real shame that we must begin the evaluations so early..." The voice continued, the apologetic words not matching the sardonic, almost amused tone. "But discipline is discipline, and if needed, well, what else can we do but provide it?"

She tried to scream, but found herself unable to make even the slightest movement of her mouth. There was no tangible gag wrapped around her lips, no visible bonds holding her down to the chair in which she was trapped, but that didn't make the restraint any less real. 

"You're not going to escape." The words were delivered in a conversational tone, almost as if the speaker was just offering a little friendly advice. "Not from that chair, and not from Rosenkreuz. Tell me something, little girl... Cathy, is that your name? Such a pretty name.... well, tell me, Cathy...." Suddenly a face loomed before her-- what could have been a handsome face, if not for the expression of sadistic joy that was twisting it into something terrible. He cupped her face gently in his hands, deep brown eyes gazing steadily into wide, terrified blue ones. "Did you _really_ think you could pull it off?"

The others in the room laughed. She couldn't see them, but she knew they were there. One of them had to be using his powers to hold her here. If she could find him... take him out... then run.... A thousand plans raced through her mind.

The man whose face was inches away from hers chuckled. "Useless, my dear. Useless. No matter how many clever plans you formulate, we will always be one step ahead. How can you fight against a foe who can hear your every thought... anticipate your every move.... match any attack you might throw at them?" He paused, listening to her panicked thoughts, then smiled unpleasantly. "That's right, sweetheart, you can't."

With that, he backhanded her, forming an angry red mark on her cheek. It didn't hurt so much as it surprised her, but tears began sliding slowly down her cheeks. He was right. It was useless to think or fight or resist. Useless... and hopeless.

"Glad to see you've finally realized it." He had wandered out of her line of vision, but his voice still rang out clear, even more terrifying now that she couldn't see him, couldn't monitor what he was doing. The very thought that this repulsive creature was inside her head disgusted her.

"Oh no, now you're not playing nice. I didn't like that." His voice lowered to a dangerous snarl. "David... silence her. I'm tired of playing."

_Who's David? What's "silencing"? Is this all some sort of game--_ Her thoughts were abruptly cut off, because at that moment a nuclear bomb went off in her head, and all of her mental facilities were occupied with screaming. Pain-- pain at least a hundred times more intense than any that could be caused naturally-- was literally consuming every inch of her body. She was burning alive, and she was freezing to death. She was being electrocuted, blown up, shot, stabbed, torn apart by wild animals and slowly crushed to death, all at once. Somewhere in the back of her tortured mind, she realized that she should have been dead a long time ago from the onslaught of agony, but something was keeping her alive, and the torment went on.

Finally-- mercifully-- it was over, and there was nothing but sweet silence inside her head. Slowly she opened her eyes, and found that she could move again. Examining herself, she realized that her physical state had not been affected whatsoever by the attack. And mentally?

She felt normal... but things looked different somehow....

A handsome man stepped forward and took her hand. "How are you feeling?" he asked kindly.

"Confused..." she murmured. His voice sounded familiar, but whenever she tried to remember how, her head began to ache again. Terrified that the agony would suddenly return, she stopped thinking about it.

"It's all right, you'll understand everything soon." He bent down and looked into her eyes-- deep brown meeting blue once again. "I think you'll find that we can be better friends after this, no?"

She nodded numbly. She wanted to remember... but the pain was the last thing she recalled. Before that... before that was a muddled mess, and the more she thought about it, the more the sharp ache in her head intensified.

"Don't hurt yourself," the man said gently. "You tried to do something bad, and now you have seen the error of your ways and you will be working with us from now on. That's all. Don't worry yourself thinking about it any more, understand?" It was not so much a request as it was an order, but she nodded again nevertheless.

"Good," he continued. A smile flashed across his face, and again a flicker of memory threatened to break through within her mind, but she quickly pushed it down. He had told her not to think of it anymore; therefore, she could not. She had to do as he said. Had to be good, or the pain would come back.

"Very good." His smile widened. "Wonderful. Now, come with me, I have a few things to show you...."

* * * * *

Brad sighed, checked the room number yet again-- yes, room number 269, this _was_ the room he had been assigned-- and continued rapping loudly on the door. He supposed he could just unlock the door and walk right in, but he felt a little uncomfortable doing that. He had been told that his roommate had been at Rosenkreuz for several years now, and it seemed somehow disrespectful for Brad, the newcomer, to just come barging in like he owned the place.

He had just raised his fist to knock again when the door flew open, and he found himself looking straight into a pair of intense slate blue eyes. The owner of these eyes looked Brad over lazily and smirked a little. "You must be my new roommate."

Brad blinked. _This_ was his roomie? He didn't look quite as the young clairvoyant had expected him to. Rather than the clean-cut, brainwashed prep school boy Brad had assumed his roommate would be after a few years at this place, the boy looked... wild. That was the only word for it. He had smooth, clean features, but they were framed by an untameable shock of hair in the most unusual sunset-orange shade. He was tall, lanky, with long legs, and the smug expression on his face looked as if it never left.

"Are you planning to stand there staring at me all day, or would you like to come in?" The redhead's voice was nasal, accented, and currently held an amused tone. 

Brad shook himself and stepped inside, looking around the room. It wasn't too much worse than his room at home, or any typical hotel room. Two beds, a dresser, a nightstand with a lamp, and a table with two chairs in the corner of the room. The only difference was that it looked completely bare of any personal effects-- no posters or calendars or clothes strewn all over the floor, things one would expect a teenage boy's room to contain. 

"No bags?" His new roommate's voice interrupted his train of thought. 

"No," Brad said simply. The redhead waited for an explanation; when none came, he shrugged and flopped down on one of the beds. 

_~I could just take it out of your mind, you know.~_ Suddenly Brad heard the same nasal tenor voice within his head, rather than with his ears. Inwardly he sighed. Great. Rooming with a telepath. He wasn't going to be able to get away with anything around here.

"I should hope that if you'll be "getting away with anything", you'll include me in it," the boy said, a mischevious smile breaking over his face. "This place is boring. But I'll warn you, it's not real easy to get away with stuff around here. If it was, I would've been gone a long time ago." Propping his feet up on the opposite bed, he dug around in his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, lit it and took a long drag. "Oh, by the way, I'm Schu." He caught the frown on Brad's face and rolled his eyes, interrupting before the other boy could even begin speaking. "No, it has nothing to do with footwear. It's short for Schuldig, which means guilty' in German, and yes that is my real name. Had a couple of sadists for parents, what can I say."

Brad raised an eyebrow. "Is it always this hard to have a conversation with a telepath?"

Schu tossed back his head and laughed. "And I wasn't even using my powers there. Everyone asks me that when they first meet me, though. Let's see, what else.... oh yes, my hair IS this color naturally.... I'm telepathic, I hail originally from Germany, and I'm 14 years old." At the shocked expression on Brad's face, he began to laugh again. "Yes, only 14. I just look-- and probably act-- older than my age."

Slightly unnerved by the fact that Schu kept anticipating his questions before he asked them, Brad offered a hand to the younger boy. "Bradley Crawford. Umm... I'm American..." He ignored the derisive snicker from the foreign boy. "I'm a clairvoyant, which is why I'm here."

Schu chuckled. "And you think YOU won't be able to get away with anything! What with you seeing the future and all, I'll never be able to surprise you...." A sly smile touched his lips, and he raised his eyebrows at the older boy.

Brad was a little startled. Was Schu... flirting with him? Nah, couldn't be. Brad himself had known that he was attracted to males as well as females since middle school-- his father had not known, but he had suspected, which had just served as yet more ammunition against Brad-- but the odds that his male roommate was interested in guys as well were not overwhelmingly high.

"Er... how long have you been here?" Brad asked, once again glancing around at the bare walls and pristine floors. Maybe Schu had just moved into this room, that could explain it.

"Three years," the redheaded boy sighed, taking another drag on the cigarette. "Three very.... _long_.... years."

"In this same room?"

"Yep."

"So why's it so...." Brad turned around, taking in the whole room at once. "Bare?"

Schu gave a wry grin. "Because it has to be. You haven't read the rules yet, have you?"

Brad shook his head.

"I'll save you the trouble. Basically, if it makes any noise, causes any messes, or brings you any tiny amount of pleasure whatsoever, you're not allowed to do it under penalty of death." Schu shook his head, an expression of contempt clear on his face. "There's no stereos or music allowed, no food besides what's allotted to you at mealtimes... We're not allowed to put anything up on the walls or leave any personal effects out in plain sight...." Schu began reciting in a sarcastic tone. It was clear that he'd heard these rules rattled off millions of times. "Rooms must be kept perfectly clean. Random room cleanliness checks will be conducted during both day and night. If any student's room is found to be unacceptable during one of these checks, he will be assigned to cleanup duty elsewhere in the facilities. If multiple infractions are recorded, the student in question may be brought in for evaluation."

"What _is_ evaluation?" Brad interrupted. "That was in the speech that we newcomers all had to sit through, but he never explained what it meant."

Schu paused for a moment, and for the first time Brad saw the smirk disappear from his face. It was momentarily replaced by a troubled, almost haunted look. Then he blinked and shook his head and it was gone, replaced by a hesitant smile. "It's... nothing. I don't know. I've never had to worry about it. As much as I hate this place and all the rules, I try to fly under the radar. So they don't notice me."

Brad frowned a little. There was something Schu wasn't telling him, but it was clearly something that his new roommate didn't want to talk about, so he decided not to press the subject. "So... what exactly _do_ you do for fun around here?"

The corner of the redhead's mouth turned up in a sly grin. "If it were up to them, nothing. We gotta make our own fun. Luckily, there are ways to get around the rules if you try hard enough, and get a little creative." Schu held up his box of cigarettes. "I'm not supposed to have these, of course. A friend of a friend has some friends on the outside who slip in every now and then to bring us stuff-- if we pay them, that is."

Brad arched an eyebrow. "You know, I hate to say this, but the more I learn about this place, the more it sounds like a prison."

"Oh, not so far from the truth, my friend." Schu shrugged. "We're stuck here now, though, may as well make the best of it."

Another question occurred to Brad. "How do people manage to get in and out of the school, with all these powerful telepaths around?"

"There are a few double agents on the staff... I'll have to point them out to you later. They help us out as much as possible when we're doing things the higher-ups would frown upon, but we don't have enough support to stage a big breakout yet." Schu flopped down on the bed again, staring up at the ceiling, a faraway look coming into his eyes. "Someday...."

Brad felt a familiar chill running down his spine. _There really is no escape,_ he realized, panicking slightly. _Anything I think, anything I say, they could be listening... They could burst in any minute to accuse us of plotting a conspiracy, then drag us off for "evaluation", which is so bad that he won't even _talk_ about it! I'm trapped..._

It took him a moment to realize Schu was looking at him with concern. "Brad. Relax," the German said in a gentler tone than usual. "You can't think like that, or you'll drive yourself crazy in no time. They're not listening as much as you think they are. If you don't call too much attention to yourself, they pretty much leave you alone. They try to keep the atmosphere kind of normal around here, because if all the students were smart enough to realize they were being treated like a bunch of lab rats in a cage, they'd all revolt and the staff would have a _big_ problem on their hands. Bunch of pissed off telepaths and telekinetics.... it wouldn't be a pretty sight. But half of them don't even know what's going on, and the rest are actually happy about supposedly honing their skills'." Schu snorted.

Brad took a deep breath, the momentary panic passing. "This place still reminds me of a prison," he said, shaking his head.

The redhead gave what was probably as close to a reassuring smile as he got. "Don't worry, it's not that bad when you get used to it. It's almost time for dinner, I'll introduce you to some of my friends when we get there."

"Thanks." Brad smiled warmly at the younger boy. They'd just barely met, but Schu seemed like a good person, and in a place like this, Brad figured he'd need as many friends as he could find. There was one question nagging at the back of his mind, however. "Hey, Schu..."

"Yeah?"

"Well.... wouldn't they normally room new students with other new students? I mean... after living here for three years, you've never had a roommate?"

Schu smiled sheepishly. "Well... er, yes, I have had roommates... but... let's just say we've always had... incompatible personalities."

Brad rolled his eyes. "Alright, what'd you do?"

"Wait a minute, why are you automatically blaming me? Just cause my name means Guilty..." Schu let out an exaggerated sigh, then grinned mischeviously. "Well, let's see. One of them was allergic to cigarette smoke.... one of them said I made him nervous', never gave an explanation why..." The German looked honestly confused, Brad noted with a hidden smile. "A few said they were afraid I'd get them in trouble... and the rest were a little irritated about all the noise at night, I think."

".... Noise?" Brad almost hated to ask.

"Umm. Well... remember how I said there were ways to make our own fun?" The redhead smiled evilly.

_Great,_ the young clairvoyant thought, blinking at Schu. _Not only is my new roommate a telepath, he's a pervert besides. Lovely._

The corners of Schu's eyes crinkled up in a grin. _~I think we're going to be great friends, Bradley Crawford.~_

__

~*End Chapter 1*~

   [1]: mailto:mpike@froggernet.com



	2. Two

Author: Kerianne 

Author: Kerianne   
Email: [][1]mpike@froggernet.com   
Title: Whatever Tomorrow Brings   
Type: Series (2/?)   
Teaser: Before Schwarz was Schwarz, there was only a group of young boys banding together to fight against a nearly unbeatable foe...   
Spoilers: A bit of spoilage for the drama tracks, I suppose.   
Warnings: Shounen-ai, possible yaoi later on... violence... probably angst... AU...   
Keywords: Brad Crawford, Schwarz, past, Rosenkreuz 

*.....* = italics   
~.....~ = thoughts 

Chapter 2:   


"Well?" 

The young monitor closed his eyes briefly, scanning quickly through the events of the recent past in his mind, then began his daily report. "Subject 28 has a new roommate, sir."

"Really." Farblos raised an eyebrow. "Is he.... exceptional?"

"We're not sure yet, sir. He is one of our new students, so we haven't had time to bring him in for testing."

"Make it a priority."

The monitor nodded, then coughed a little nervously. "Subject 12... er... well, sir, we had no choice... she attempted escape...."

"What are you telling me, McAllister?"

McAllister avoided his boss's eyes. "We were forced to bring Subject 12 in for evaluation."

The cool silence that followed this announcement seemed to drag on forever. McAllister was debating whether it would be less painful to leap through the glass windows at the back of the office or to remain and suffer the wrath of his boss when Farblos spoke again. "Did I not make myself clear enough when I said that the subjects were not to be evaluated without my permission?"

"Sir, we--"

"How many times has this happened now? How much potential has been wasted? How many times have we allowed the sharpest minds of this institution to be turned to mush?"

"Sir, I assure you that I had nothing to do with it-- I was not present at the time-- it was Carlisle's decision--"

"Enough babbling, McAllister, you're not to blame," Farblos said absentmindedly, a look of-- almost *_worry*_, his subordinate realized-- passing over his face. "Anything else of importance?"

"No sir, everything's running smoothly, I'll be taking my leave now then?" The young monitor was already making his way toward the door by the time his boss gave him permission to leave. Once in the hallway, he breathed a sigh of relief, glad that he *_hadn't*_ been involved. Farblos' anger was not to be taken lightly; a former military general, the man could probably come up with some very unpleasant forms of punishment.

Now alone in his office, the headmaster of Rosenkreuz sat staring out the window and thinking. Something had to be done about Stephen Carlisle. But he shuddered to think of what would happen to the person who attempted to do it.

Never before in the sixty-two years of his life had Farblos found another person of whom he was truly afraid. He had always been physically as well as mentally strong. His physical ablilities combined with his status as one of the top five most powerful telepaths in the world had always basically eliminated any doubts of his own superiority. Quite simply, he was fearless.

But in Stephen Carlisle and his protege, the old military man had finally found something to be afraid of.

* * * * *

The dining room was much like the rest of the school, Brad noted, allowing himself to be dragged past table after table by his rather enthusiastic roommate. Unremarkable. The walls were white, spotless, the kind that were so clean you just wanted to smear something on them to destroy the purity. 

Brad smirked a little, momentarily picturing the whole place breaking out into a food fight. But the students he saw at most of the tables were much like the room itself-- clean, pure, unremarkable. Your typical prep-school types. And, of course, they were all dressed in the basic Rosenkreuz uniform. White shirt, black tie, black pants, black shoes. Both Schu and Brad were wearing it as well. Schu looked good, Brad had to admit. Something about the contrast of the loose strands of fire tumbling over the pristine white shirt... 

As if he was listening (and he probably was), Schu shook his hair back behind his shoulders and turned his head a little to look at Brad. "Our table's coming up. Don't be too surprised... some of em look a little... unconventional." He gave his usual flippant grin, and abruptly stopped.

Blinking, Brad looked up, and was greeted by the slightly unnerving feeling of five pairs of eyes regarding him-- some coldly, some suspiciously, some not really caring. Schu didn't seem bothered by his friends' less-than-enthusiastic reaction to Brad's presence, and motioned to the American that he should sit down. "Hey, guys. This is my new roommate, Brad Crawford. Be nice to him."

The atmosphere lightened a little, but Brad could tell that the others were still keeping an eye on him. He was no empath, but he got the feeling that this wasn't a very trusting bunch. Uneasily he smiled at the girl across the table from him, who was watching him with narrowed, cat-like green eyes. 

"I s'pose I should make introductions, hmm?" Schuldig glanced at his nervous roommate and smirked a little. Brad glared back, irritated that the redhead seemed to be enjoying his discomfort. 

Schu began to rattle off names, but Brad found himself a bit distracted when he spotted the boy at the end of the table. He looked to be about Schu's age, perhaps a little younger. His hair was silvery-white and cropped close to his head, and his skin was almost as pale as his hair. What made him striking were his eyes, a blazing shade of golden-amber that seemed to glow with intelligence and... something else, something not quite sane. He seemed uninterested in the conversation, staring off into space and boredly toying with his silverware.

Suddenly Brad found his attention brought back to Schuldig by way of a considerable smack on the arm from the redhead. "I wouldn't stare at Farf if I were you, he's likely to just get up and throw that knife he's holding right at your head."

The silver-haired boy looked up lazily, a smile touching his pale lips. "You're gonna scare him off." His voice was surprisingly soft, and a light Irish accent gave it a somewhat musical quality.

Schuldig laughed. "That's Farfarello," he said, turning back to Brad. "Not his real name, but he won't tell any of us what that is. Great guy, cept he's a little crazy."

"Not much crazier'n you," the Irish boy answered good-naturedly.

"You might have a point there." Schuldig gave a wry half-smile. "Well, anyway, that's the whole group of em. Well, almost. One of us isn't here yet, lazy bastard that he is. He should be along soon-- ah, here he comes...."

The boy moving toward them was tall, lanky, built much like Schu. His hair was shoulder-length, wavy, and a deep shade of honey-brown. His eyes were obscured by the sunglasses perched on his nose.

"New friend, eh?" The newcomer took a seat beside Schu, raising an eyebrow at the redhead. "Introduce me."

Schu grinned. "Bradley Crawford, meet Yohji Kudou."

* * * * *

"Ah... Mr. Carlisle, sir?"

Stephen Carlisle looked up slowly from his desk and flashed a charismatic grin at the young monitor. "Yes, McAllister?"

"Mr. Farblos, er... well, he asked me to tell you that Subject 28's roommate should be brought in."

"For evaluation?" Carlisle's dark eyes seemed to light up a little.

"No, no... just for interviewing. We need to know if he's... exceptional." McAllister swallowed hard. Speaking with Carlisle always made him very nervous; the man seemed to have a bloodthirsty streak to him, despite his clean-cut, attractive appearance.

"Ahhh. I see... did Farblos say anything else?" Carlisle leaned forward, fixing eyes that had suddenly turned to steel on the very apprehensive McAllister.

"Er... well... nothing much, just..."

"I'll remind you that anything you don't tell me, I can find out myself." The man grinned again, this time with a more dangerous edge. 

"Well... he said he wasn't quite pleased with the number of people you've been calling in for evaluation, sir. He wanted me to remind you that... that you have to get it cleared with him first before you evaluate any of the subjects under surveillance." McAllister finished speaking in a rush, and took a deep breath. Messenger of bad news for the second time in one day. They were *_definitely*_ not paying him enough for this job.

"I see..." Carlisle said thoughtfully. "And what do *_you*_ think?"

The young monitor made the mistake of responding. "Well... sir, I really think maybe you *_have*_ been going a little overboard with the evaluating, I mean, if Farblos wishes you to consult him first then you... you..." He trailed off, realizing too late that another small figure had stepped up beside Carlisle at the desk, and found his source of air suddenly cut off. Choking, he sank to his knees on the carpet of Carlisle's office, one hand wrapped around his throat, the other clawing at the air.

Carlisle watched the whole spectacle with a wide smile, a sort of twisted joy dancing in his eyes. "Did you say you had a problem with the way I do things, McAllister?"

"N-- no... of-- of c-course not, sir...." McAllister croaked, vision blurring to black around the edges.

"I thought not." Carlisle nodded to the small figure beside him-- a young dark-haired boy, no more than seven or eight years old, with serious, cold midnight eyes. "Thank you, David. You may go now. Tell Mariana that I said to give you an extra cookie with your dinner tonight."

McAllister collapsed onto the floor, wheezing and gulping air into his starved lungs. Still smiling, Carlisle stood up from his desk and walked across the room to stand over the younger man. "You are dismissed, McAllister." Then, without offering a hand or making any attempt to help the other man up, he walked away.

The monitor closed his eyes, still breathing hard. _~*Definitely* not paying me enough for this job.~_

* * * * *

_~Will this meal ever end?~_

Brad stared off into space, praying for something-- anything-- to concentrate on, besides the loud and animated conversation his roommate and Yohji were having about the porno magazines that a friend of a friend of a friend had managed to sneak in for them last Tuesday. He had the strangest feeling that Schu and Yohji were... well... *_involved*._ The way they looked at each other, touched each other, the easy way they talked together... Yes, there was definitely something going on. If they weren't an item, they were at least sleeping together. Both of those options made Brad feel a little bit uncomfortable, although he wasn't completely sure why. He couldn't be jealous-- they'd only just met! ~_I just don't like the idea that my roommate could be screwing random people while I'm in the room, that's all,~_ he thought decisively. Then he did his best to push the thoughts out of his mind. He didn't want Schu picking up on these particular thoughts-- the mischevious redhead would never let him hear the end of it.

Both Yohji and Schu were laughing. Brad wasn't sure about what; he'd been tuning out their conversation. Then Yohji reached out and grabbed Schu's arm, excitedly beginning to tell him something. 

Without thinking, Brad coughed loudly, and the table went silent. The young clairvoyant felt his face burn, and he scrambled for some excuse to interrupt the conversation. "Er... um... Yohji, what are you here for?" he asked finally.

The blond looked a bit put out at having been interrupted, but he answered the question anyway. "Precognitive. Been here for two years now-- not as long as Schu has, but long enough."

Brad's eyes narrowed. ~_He didn't *need* to mention Schu then. He just wanted an excuse to talk about him. I bet he's the obsessive type. People like that just make me sick...~_ He quickly curbed his thoughts, as they were sounding more and more jealous as he went on. "Uh... me too!"

"Great." Yohji rolled his eyes, then quickly picked up his conversation with Schu again. Sighing, Brad picked up his fork and poked the rubbery-looking meat on his plate. He'd eaten the vegetables and the salad, but the main course looked completely inedible. Too bad-- at least eating would be something to take his mind off the fact that everyone at the table, with the possible exception of Schu, thought he was a world-class dork.

"Don't worry about him. He's a little blunt, but you'll get used to it." Brad looked up at the source of the soft voice, the boy seated beside him, who he hadn't even noticed before. The boy was small and young-looking, but his face looked mature, so Brad guessed he was probably about 15. He had soft white-blond hair and large cornflower-blue eyes that gave him an odd air of fragility. Brad tried to remember his name... something with a T...

"Tobias." The boy laughed softly, and Brad realized he had to be a telepath. "It's all right. I'm used to being forgotten." His voice carried a note of melancholy that made Brad take notice.

"Nice to meet you, Tobias. It's not that I forgot you, it's just that... well... I kind of tuned the introductions out a bit. Schu's so... er... talkative." 

Tobias laughed again. "I know what you mean. I'm not talkative... I'm a good listener, unfortunately no one really talks to me."

Brad found his heart going out to the boy-- he looked so young and lonely suddenly, blue eyes wide and full of sadness. "Hey, don't worry about it. Listen to them-- I don't think you're really missing much." He rolled his eyes. Yohji and Schu's boisterous conversation had now turned to the possible places Rosenkreuz could be going to get their food, none of which were particularly appetizing, all of which the two boys thought were positively hilarious.

"Good point. Well, anyway, I just wanted to tell you not to let Yohji get you down too much. Like I said, he's blunt."

"Yeah, I see that..." Brad trailed off. "Um, are they... well..."

"Involved?" Tobias smiled slightly. "Yes and no. They've had an off-and-on thing going for as long as I've been here, a year. Possibly before that, I'm not sure. I don't think it's serious, though... more of a mutual agreement. Satisfying each other's needs, you could say."

Brad nodded wordlessly, a little surprised at the sudden bolt of anger that had just struck him. _Was_ he jealous? He really had no reason to be...

"I'd watch it if I were you."

"Huh?" Brad looked up at the small blond boy.

Tobias smiled knowingly, and a little sadly. "You're well on your way to getting your heart broken."

Brad frowned, and was about to ask Tobias what he meant when a loud, nasal voice interrupted their quiet conversation. "You two sharing secrets over there, or what?"

Brad met Schu's gaze evenly, a faint smile on his lips. "Maybe." ~_Two can play at this game,~_ he thought irrationally. ~_I can make him jealous too.~_

Suddenly the table fell silent. At first, Brad thought it was because of the tension between him and Schu, but then he realized that Schu had gone quiet as well... quiet and kind of pale, and more serious than Brad had ever seen him look. Slowly, Brad turned around.

"Good evening, Mr. Crawford." The man behind him was tall, with neat dark hair, handsome features, and an utterly charming smile. His eyes were dark as well, but held none of the charisma in his smile; they were unsettlingly blank and empty.

"Um... Hello?" Brad said in a confused tone.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Stephen Carlisle, and I am the head of student relations at the school. I'm here to set up a meeting with you... sort of an interview. Nothing too terrible. It's standard procedure." The man flashed his disarming smile again. "If I could ask you to come with me now? You should be back to your room in... perhaps an hour or so."

The American stood up, a little nervously, and followed Carlisle out of the cafeteria.

The table remained silent for another moment or two after Brad's departure. Schu spoke finally, still looking slightly pale. "They'd better start shopping for a new roommate for me."

"He's dead, huh," Yohji stated.

"Oh, yes, he is *_so*_ dead."

* * * * *

"Have a seat, Mr. Crawford-- may I call you Brad?"

Brad nodded, wondering why Carlisle, clearly a higher-up in the school, was treating him, a new student, with such respect. Somehow he sensed there was something beneath the man's polished exterior... something not quite right about him.

"All right, Brad, I have a confession to make. I wasn't altogether honest with you when I referred to this as an interview. Part of it will be questions, but it's really more of a chance for us to test you. Now, don't panic, you won't be hooked up to any machines or anything. As I said, it's standard procedure for new students. We need to know where you stand as far as your abilities go, so we'll know how to best aid you in honing your talents."

The American nodded again, eyes narrowing. Testing. Just like he'd been tested when his father had dragged him to psychiatrists all around the country, searching for one who would give his son some kind of drug, some kind of treatment to make him "normal". None of them had been able to find a thing "wrong" with him; in fact, they'd all stated that his mental facilities were sharper than most. Of course, they weren't trained to notice his clairvoyancy, but they had sensed an alertness in his mind that many lacked. This had only angered his father more.

"You're still worried, aren't you?" Carlisle grinned. "We'll get this over with quickly then. State your name?"

"Bradley Crawford."

"Age?"

"Sixteen and a half."

"Nationality?"

"American."

Carlisle made a few notes on a sheet of paper on his desk. "When did you first notice your special abilities?"

Brad paused for a moment. "I can't really remember," he said finally. "It was just... always a part of me, I guess. The earliest memory I have of it was when my mother started a fire in the kitchen. I was five years old... we had gone out, and she had left the stove on... I remember yelling in the car on the way home about the house being on fire. Of course, they had no clue what I meant, but when they got home they found the kitchen full of smoke, and the fire beginning to spread." He smiled sadly. "My father demanded that I tell him how I had known. Being only five, I didn't know how to answer, so he assumed I'd done something to cause it and sent me to bed without dinner for the next two days." He stopped himself, wondering why he'd suddenly started running off his mouth about his father to this total stranger. That was normally a part of him he kept fairly silent about, and the fact that he'd revealed it to Carlisle made him even more suspicious of the man.

Carlisle nodded thoughtfully, eyes flashing with something that could have been triumph as well as it could have been sympathy. "So your parents were not supportive of your abilities."

Brad gave a soft, bitter laugh. "Couldn't have been further from it. My mom wasn't so bad. She didn't understand it, but at least she didn't hate me for it. But my father... well, he didn't like the fact that I had skills and power that he didn't understand. That maybe I was stronger than he was."

"I see. How did you end up coming to Rosenkreuz?"

Brad paused, wondering if it was really a good idea to tell the dean of students that he had been forced into attending.

"Be honest. You don't have to tell me what you think I want to hear." Carlisle's eyes crinkled up at the corners.

Brad nodded. "Truthfully, my father shipped me here. No warning, no notice, just dragged me out of bed, drove me to the airport and put me on the plane." He couldn't believe it had really only been that morning that he'd arrived at the school. The day had been so long that it seemed as if weeks had passed between his arrival and the current moment.

"Your father keeps coming up... tell me about him."

The question put Brad on the defensive, because it sounded a lot like something a psychiatrist might say, and he had had enough of psychiatrists to last him a lifetime. "He was my father. I don't know what else you want me to say."

"How did he treat you?"   
"I don't see what this has to do with my education here." 

Carlisle paused, meeting Brad's gaze evenly, and for a moment the young precog was afraid that he was going to blow up at him. Instead, he nodded calmly. "You know what... you're right, Brad. I apologize. I'll try not to pry into your past anymore... I know it can be a sensitive subject." For a moment his eyes looked a bit faraway; then he focused on Brad again.

"I... well... thank you," Brad said uneasily. Again he had the feeling that Carlisle's politeness wasn't just for the sake of being a good citizen. The man had "ulterior motive" written all over his face.

"No problem, Brad. None at all." Carlisle paused, tapping the end of his pen against his chin. "How much practice have you had with your talent?"

".... Practice?"

"Well, I mean... have you trained yourself at all? Do you know how to use it at certain times, or does it come to you randomly?"

"I've been getting better at controlling it. The visions used to come to me all of a sudden, and I'd get disoriented and confused... I think I even blacked out for a moment the first few times. After a while I figured out how to... well, not turn it off, but control it, push it to the back of my mind until I wanted to see it."

"Can you read the future whenever you want to?"

"No, I can't control when the visions hit. I can only control their severity, I can't bring one on myself, or just look into the future to see whatever I'm looking for."

"Would you like to learn how?"

The question stopped Brad in his tracks. He hadn't thought it was possible, to be able to see the future whenever one wanted to. If he could do that... he'd be able to do just about anything....

"Well? Would you?"

"Well... yes, I suppose so, sir..." Brad stammered, still a little shocked. Visions of power were flashing before his eyes. Maybe this place really *_would*_ be good for him....

"Then you're in the right place, Brad." Carlisle leaned back in his chair, placing his fingertips together and looking seriously at the boy. "Rosenkreuz is a wonderful opportunity for anyone with special abilities like yours. You should consider your arrival here a blessing, not a curse. This place can help you accomplish things beyond your wildest dreams-- provided you cooperate with us, that is." The man's smile suddenly turned a little icy. "What do you think of the school so far?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Brad answered honestly. "I haven't seen enough of it to make a decision yet."

The older man nodded slowly. "You're thoughtful. You don't rush into things. It's a good quality. What do you think of your roommate, then? Have you seen enough of _him_ to make a decision?"

Brad's stomach flipped-- he wasn't sure why. Had Carlisle seen something in his thoughts? Was he even a telepath? Brad wasn't sure. "Er... Schuldig?"

"I believe that's your roommate's name, yes." Carlisle sounded vaguely amused.

"Well... I don't know, he seems really nice so far. He's helped me out a lot, explained how things worked, introduced me to his friends... He's made it a little easier for me to fit in here."

"I see..." Carlisle paused. "Do you think he's attractive?"

"What?" Brad stammered.

"Are you attracted to him?" The older man's voice was calm and even.

"I don't see what this has to do with--"

"Does it bother you that he's with Kudou?" His voice was rising, almost taunting. "Do you think Kudou's the obsessive type? Does he just make you sick?"

Brad's blood ran cold. His exact thoughts, at the dinner table.... "I don't see where you're going with these questions! Frankly, it's none of your business!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished they hadn't. Carlisle's eyes had come alive, lit with a strange... excitement, and the smirk playing around his lips seemed almost dangerous. Brad sensed that angering him at the moment probably wouldn't be very good for his own well-being.

But a moment later, the man's eyes returned to their normal blank state, and he nodded respectfully. "I apologize once again, Brad. I got carried away. Perhaps we should move on to the testing now?"

Brad stared at Carlisle, eyes wide, wishing he could just get up and run from the room. But instead, he took a deep breath and spoke softly. "Perhaps we should."

~*end chapter 2*~

C&C desperately needed! I got almost none for my last fic, it made me sad. I'll.... I'll cry. lol

   [1]: mailto:mpike@froggernet.com



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